Page 20

I recognize this excerpt; it’s from The Secret Garden by Frances Hodgson Burnett.

I move along, one heavy step after another, to the nursery. It contains everything a baby might need and more. A crib, swaddle blankets, a changing table, and books. A soft rug covers the center of the floor, where the rocking chair sits.

That’s where we spend the next half an hour. Rocking in the middle of the dimly lit room, Aria curled against my chest, while I sing to her. And when I finally bring myself to lay her in the crib and walk away, my heart aches, stabbing my chest until I think I may double over. This can’t be the end.

So long as Aria is here, I will visit her every day.

“I’ll be home in a month, baby,” I whisper into the darkness, hoping that the feeling reaches her even if she can’t understand my words. Then I rip my eyes from her crib and close the door behind me.

I’ll be back…

The caravan is cozy. This one has a smooth, hardwood interior and a simple canvas top. There’s a little nook on the side where the bed sits, and a small wood stove on the opposite side to keep us warm through the night. I’m brewing a pot of tea on the stovetop now.

Running my fingers through my hair, I fluff the strands loose after being in a braid all day. After today, I’m ready to be in bed.

A cold draft breezes through my cotton night gown, brushing against my legs until I shiver, and I turn to the door. Cain leans against the frame, his legs crossed casually at the ankles. He takes a drag of his herbal cigarette and blows the smoke into the wind.

It’s so peaceful here. Unlike at home, where my existence is either a threat or a burden to someone, and I have to look over my shoulder constantly.

Walking over to Cain, I turn to him and lean against the opposite side of the door frame. Cain glances down at me, his eyes moving over my body before locking with my gaze.

I jump as Cain shoots out his hand and grabs my throat. My breath hitches, ready for him to squeeze, but he doesn’t. Instead, he holds me in place, pinned against the doorframe. The lantern hanging in the caravan sits just behind him, casting shadows over his face as he looks down his sharp nose at me. The tip of his cigarette lights as he inhales, then he blows the smoke all over my face. I close my eyes and inhale, the floral herbs filling my lungs. Most of the time, he smokes straight lavender or a lavender-and-chamomile mix. This one has a crisp kick to it that I love. It’s not spearmint… Maybe apple mint?

“The mint ones are my favorite,” I say as I open my eyes. Cain’s lip twitches before taking another drag and blowing it in my face again. Then he releases my neck, his hand dropping to his side as he rubs the pads of his forefinger and thumb together in the same rhythm he uses on me.

“I’ll start making more of them.” Cain blows a puff of the aromatherapy into the wind.

“They’re for you.” I shake my head and smile. “You should make the ones you enjoy the most.”

“I enjoy you,” Cain says as his eyes narrow a fraction as they move over me. My heart flutters when his gray eyes lock with mine, his storm taking me over. It’s brewing, like he might grab me again or throw me to the floor.

I want him to… It really hit me when we got back to the caravan that we would have a few days alone together. While Cain is unpredictable, being alone together is the best chance that he might touch me more.

He’s been expressing his gentle side for the past few days. Caressing my cheek or kissing my head before going to sleep.

“You were good with Aria… Do you think you’ll have kids?” I ask, regretting the question as soon as the words leave me. I flit my eyes to my feet, my stomach twists, and I occupy my fingers by running them through the ends of my hair.

“Yes,” his voice is low. “With you.” I look up through a cloud of lavender smoke and find Cain looking down at me, head tilted, and eyes narrowed. He puts the cigarette out on the doorframe and tosses the remnants to the ground. My heart jumps, and I swallow when he takes a step closer. Cain slides one hand over my waist, shoving me back while weaving his fingers through my hair and gripping tight. He lowers his face to mine, running his nose over my cheek as he takes a deep inhale. I shiver, goosebumps erupting down my spine when he blows in my ear.

“Cain…” I’ve been desperate for this. His touch electrifies me, brings me back to life.

Why am I so weak with him?

He looks at me, and I buckle. He touches me, and I crumble between his fingers.

Maybe this is okay if we are just using each other… I can have his body, and he can have mine. For a little while…

“Most times I see you, I think about throwing you down, having my way with you again and again until you’re good and pregnant with my baby.” Cain bites my lobe, and my breath hitches. More goose bumps, more pressure. His grip tightens in my hair, and he blows in my ear again. “After watching you with that little one, I’m feeling my self-control slip away.”

“You don’t need to control yourself with me.” His grip rips against my scalp as he pulls my head back, opening my neck for him as I’m left staring at the ceiling. Cain’s teeth brush over my neck. My heart drums against my chest, and my thighs clench, the pressure building in my core.

“There you go again. Permitting me to do what I shouldn’t.” He tuts, then brushes his lips down my neck before jamming his knee between my legs and biting down on my shoulder. My middle tightens, my breath hitches, and stars shoot across my vision.

That physical pain with pleasure lets me know I’m alive.

Cain kisses the assaulted bite, then releases my hair and steps back, pulling me by my waist along with him. One, two, three steps back, then he spins us around and throws me down onto the bed. Propping myself back on my elbows, I watch him, my predator, staring down at me like I’m his next meal.

He watches me through his messy bangs, the clink of his belt pricking my ears as he slowly pulls it through the loops. Sliding the leather through his fingers, he folds the belt, pushes the ends together, then—